Lessons and Learning
by Acacea
Summary: A series of standalone ficlets in which Faramir learns something new
1. Gifts

Disclaimer: LOTR, and its characters and places and anything else you recognise are all Tolkien's

For Aervir who requested a kind!Denethor and wee!Faramir drabble. It turned into a double drabble.

**Gifts**

Denethor watched warily as Faramir stood on his chair, tottering only slightly and reached for the desk. He had asked the nurse to leave Faramir with him while Boromir attended his lessons, so that Finduilas could rest awhile. But his study did not seem the ideal location.

Faramir put a quill into his mouth and promptly made a sound that clearly indicated disapproval of its taste.

"No, not that!" Denethor exclaimed, plucking it out of his son's hands, "It's brought specially for me from the east by one of the city merchants!"

"He tries to eat everything," Boromir had complained earlier. Denethor had felt compelled to inform him that at Faramir's age he had tried to chew the hilt of his grandfather's hunting knife.

Faramir reached out for a small lebethron carving; a gift from Forlong. Denethor swiped it away in time, and managed also to deftly shove away the carved eagle from Finduilas. "That's special too."

Faramir shrugged and reached for a long wooden object with a cup like end. Denethor watched with interest as the boy pushed the long end into his mouth and chewed experimentally on it.

"You can chew that," he said kindly, "It's from Mithrandir."

* * *


	2. Evening Lessons

Disclaimer: LOTR, and its characters and places and anything else you recognise are all Tolkien's

For Annmarwalk who asked for a story of young Faramir reading and studying and discovering something useful. And this is what came of it.

**Evening Lessons**

Faramir was sitting with his books in front of the hearth, when Boromir came in search of him in the evening. He had just finished the lessons his tutors had given him; it had taken him longer than usual today, for he distracted and unhappy. And the sight of Boromir, for once, did not cheer him as it would have otherwise, for he knew he was to leave tomorrow.

"I came now because I must leave very early tomorrow, and you will be sleeping," Boromir said softly and sat by Faramir. He had brought apples with him and he held one out to Faramir.

"I'm going to wake up to say goodbye to you, Boromir," Faramir said frantically, surprised that his brother could think he'd rather sleep than say his farewells.

After all, it would be months before they would meet again. Boromir was to go all the way to Pelargir, to deal with the corsairs' forays. It was not very far, he knew, but in all their life so far, he and Boromir had rarely ever been away from each other, until Boromir had joined the army last year. But that had been to Osgiliath and that was not so far. Boromir had returned every few weeks regularly to submit reports to his father. And Boromir had been excited about going. He had had a new sword and new boots and despite his own unhappiness, Faramir had felt he'd looked very fine indeed.

He looked even better now, for he was taller and with his sword hanging from his waist, and his hair tied behind his neck, he looked very dashing indeed. But he looked a little sad, Faramir thought.

Boromir gave him a small smile and ruffled his hair gently, "You don't have to," he said, though he knew Faramir still would. But there would be little time in the morning for the entire troop would be leaving and he could well imagine the noise and commotion that would ensue.

"I'll miss you," he said slinging his arm around his brother's shoulders.

Faramir sat up, "I'll miss you too," he said quietly, "I wish I could come along with you." He truly wished though that Boromir would not have to go, but that he knew would be far too fanciful.

Boromir's arm tightened around his shoulders. There was a brief pause before he spoke again, and his voice sounded a little strained, "Not yet. Not for a while yet."

And then he changed the subject, "I wonder what Pelargir is like. You remember we saw it from the boat on the way to Dol Amroth, but we didn't stay there. I suppose though that it's very different from Minas Tirith."

Faramir thought Boromir looked sad, unlike the last time he'd left, and he wondered suddenly how it felt to be far away from home, and away from the comfort of being near family and all that was familiar.

"Yes, it must be," he said, "I read about it in my books. It sounds very different."

"Weren't you studying?" Boromir said, noticing the books lying on the floor, "Would you like to return to your books? I'll stay a while here though, if you won't mind."

"I'd finished," Faramir assured him, "I was only reading the astronomers' books that came from Dol Amroth. Please stay."

They sat in front of the fire eating the apples quietly.

"What did you read about it?" Boromir asked after a while.

He thought carefully before answering.

"I read about it in the astronomers' books," he said, "They say the skies there are very clear and afford them good sightings."

All the better for anyone on the look out for Corsair ships, Boromir thought grimly.

"Did you know," Faramir was continuing with much more enthusiasm now, "That the stars over Pelargir are the same as the stars over Minas Tirith?"

He looked at him surprised. He'd known, he realised, although he had never thought of that.

"The stars that father and I will see from the citadel here will be the same you will get to see from your ships there. So it cannot be all that different, can it?" Faramir was asking him anxiously.

"No, I suppose not," Boromir said smiling, "Not all that different."

* * *


	3. Music Lessons

Disclaimer: LOTR, and its characters and places and anything else you recognise are all Tolkien's

**Music Lessons**

It was quiet in the gardens, but for the soft sounds of birds chirping and the occasional dried leaf fluttering down to the red and golden carpet below. There were few people outside; an old man on a stone bench under the shade of a large tree, with a pipe in his hands and a boy sitting by a disused birdbath in the shrubbery.

"Plrrfft!" Faramir said loudly, scaring away the birds roosting on the bush near him, and startling the old man enough to nearly drop his pipe.

Faramir sighed impatiently as he pulled his fingers out of his mouth, "How ever does he do it?"

"How does who do what?"

Faramir looked up startled, and sprang to his feet uncertainly when he saw Mithrandir standing at the steps leading down to the shrubbery. The old man walked down the steps and Faramir gazed at him curiously, much as he had the previous day when he had arrived in Minas Tirith to meet his father. He moved briskly for one of his age, and he carried a staff in his hands.

Faramir felt a little awkward, not having spoken to him before, for the old wizard, as some of his father's councillors had called him, had seemed quite busy in an intense discussion with Denethor.

"Well, child," Mithrandir said in an amused tone, "Whatever was that noise you were making? I almost thought I'd see a herd of oliphaunts charging down on me."

A herd of oliphaunts, Faramir thought would be much louder, and he blurted out as much, "Father said it sounded like a herd of oliphaunts when Boromir was learning to play the lute," he said doubtfully, "Was I as loud as that?"

"No," Mithrandir told him, and the skin near his eyes crinkled up some more, making him look much nicer, "Forgive me then. It has been many years since I last saw a herd of oliphaunts."

"You have seen oliphaunts?" The awkwardness that Faramir felt vanished in an instant.

"Yes," again the eyes crinkled up, "And yes, I'll tell you all about them. If you tell me what it is you were trying to do, scaring away all the birds like that?"

"I was trying to sound a birdcall, sir, like Boromir does. When he does that, then the birds come and sit on his hand and let him feed them," he said, "I'd like to do that too."

"Ask him how he does it," Mithrandir suggested.

"Yes, I suppose I should," Faramir said a little doubtfully.

The wizard looked at him silently for a moment, and Faramir found himself gazing back at the wrinkled face.

"If you like I can show you how I do birdcalls," Mithrandir offered.

"You can?" Faramir said, a little excitedly, before his shyness from the previous night returned.

"I mean would you, sir? Please, if you have the time?" he said after a pause, hoping he sounded politer now.

"I certainly would," the wizard said smiling, "And it will not take very long."

It took them a few hours. By the time they were done, Faramir had learn not only just how to place his fingers and to blow softly through them, but also how to make the sounds vary by moving his finger a little this way for a robin's call or a little that way to sound like the small yellow birds hopping on the birdbath. And Mithrandir even showed him how he could place a cherry seed between his teeth and let out a completely different sound.

He was a fine lad, Mithrandir would say later to any who would listen, polite, kind and a little shy. And he displayed none of the wariness mixed with exasperation that his father or even some of the hobbits in the shire were so wont to when they saw the wizard. It was a refreshing change.

"Thank you," Faramir said, as they left the shrubbery together. He was due to go for his archery practise. "I didn't want to ask Boromir because father says he is readying to join his troop next week, and so I mustn't disturb him with frivolous matters. He is always with the arms masters or with father. It was very kind of you to help me."

"I was most happy to help," Mithrandir said solemnly, "But you needn't worry. It is not so frivolous after all. I hear the rangers in the woods use birdsongs to speak to each other when they fear their enemies are eavesdropping."

"But tell me," he asked as they neared the citadel buildings, "Has Boromir learned how to play the lute yet?"

"Oh yes," Faramir said enthusiastically, "He plays very well."

He was also a most loyal brother, the wizard realised, when he did get to hear Boromir play the lute a few days later.

* * *


End file.
